


Æins

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: “Richter, Richter,” Mochi calls, rolling on the balls of his heels. “I want you to come along with me and judge the new bakery that opened yesterday!”





	Æins

Mochi is in an awfully cheerful mood today, Richter notes. It wasn’t even the celestial bounding up to him that gave it away, more like the sound of his voice, like chiming bells.

“Richter, Richter,” he calls, rolling on the balls of his heels. “I want you to come along with me and judge the new bakery that opened yesterday!”

Richter scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to act like I judge everything I lay my eyes on,” he sighs.

“Oh, what would you have me do then, Mr. Judge? Mr. Arbiter?”

Richter knows Mochi is only fishing for playful banter now, but he shakes his head. It’s not like he’s wrong. “I’ll go,” he states then.

Mochi’s smile is sunshine concentrated, and he happily leads Richter in the direction of the street. He probably doesn’t expect it, but Richter decides to humor him, and genuinely judges the food, explaining in excruciating detail the feeling of the pastry dissolving on his tongue.

Mochi looks somewhere between shocked and amused, and Richter pats himself on the back, metaphorically. The gray haired celestial stares at him from the other side of the table, reaching out to capture a stray strand of Richter’s hair and playing with it almost absently.

Richter wants to say something, but no words come to his tongue, so he keeps it behind his teeth.

Mochi hums, playing with the strand of Richter’s hair between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re deserving of the name Ain,” he says suddenly, a serene smile playing upon his lips. Richter wouldn’t expect the next words out of his mouth with such an expression. “You are my number one.”

Something within Richter aches for a moment and then he finds himself chuckling, voice echoing with the sound.

“How very like you,” he mumbles, raising a hand to place over Mochi’s, but he doesn’t pull it away from his hair, merely rests atop it.

“I got you to laugh,” Mochi says, musing aloud. Then his lips curl up into a grin. “Just wait until Rune hears about this! He owes me!”

Richter doesn’t even comment on the fact that Mochi and Rune bet on him being able to make Richter laugh. There’s things he’d grown accustomed to with Mochi, things that don’t bother him anymore.

Things he’d miss if they’d ever disappear.


End file.
